Long Journey Home
by Livvia the Birdy
Summary: A story about how a simple friendship can blossom into more. Arthur Kirkland has to learn that home isn't a place, it's where the heart is. Where he lets that be, however, surprises him. US/UK. Rating might go up. AU High School.
1. Chapter 1

I don't remember when I first met him. We'd gone to the same school for long enough. We'd had classes together almost every year. But I couldn't remember when I first noticed him. Or, rather, I couldn't remember when I first noticed him noticing ME. It was a mute point, I suppose. The point was, I could feel his eyes boring into me like the lasers of a sniper rifle. I could always feel his eyes on me.

Always.

It confused me, really. I wasn't anything special. Just a thirteen year old guy like the rest of them, but with messy blond hair and bright green eyes. I wasn't good at sports. More often than not, my nose could be found crammed into a book. Needless to say, I wasn't the most social thing around. Just Arthur Kirkland; the kid who would rather discuss the existence of some mythical creature than talk about sports. I was painfully aware that this made me different. No one else in the 8th grade seemed to share my fascination with nymphs and fairies. It took me years to learn that it was best to keep my head down about the subject rather than attempt to find anyone who shared any interest in it.

Even today, I chose to keep my head low as I scribbled in on a scratch sheet of paper. My arm acted as a barrier to keep the guy beside me, Ivan, from being able to glimpse the unicorn that had taken shape beneath my pencil. Across the room from me, Alfred sat there, an arm lazily resting on his twin brother's shoulder. Of the two, anyone's eyes would have immediately been drawn to Alfred first. Sometimes, it was as though Matthew wasn't even there. He was just the tag-along who never seemed to tire of listening to his brother's stories. Today was no different.

"It's not about where we go," I could hear him explaining; as if the knowledge he was about to drop was the most important Matthew was likely to hear all day. "It's about the adventure! Think about it, Matt. Camping in the great outdoors, fending for ourselves, being real men-"

"But... Al... It's just our back yard. And mom's cooking the hotdogs for us. And our yard is fenced. What would we be fending ourselves from?" Matt asked nervously, as if he wasn't used to speaking up against his twin.

"I don't know, bugs?" Alfred sighed in frustration. "But you're missing the point! Don't you want to have some fun, Matt?" Without giving him a chance to answer, Alfred nodded to himself, "Of course you do. Now no chickening out. Not this time."

I knew I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but I couldn't help it. No one was louder in the classroom than Alfred. He drew attention to himself like flees to honey. Even though others were having their own little discussions, waiting for homeroom to be over so we could get to lunch, I could tell that at least half of them were listening to Al rant and rave to Matt just like I was, though some less discreetly. I didn't dare look up, though. Being caught listening was the last thing I wanted to happen. Still, as I moved my pencil along the shape of a hoof, I felt the familiar prickle on the back of my neck. I couldn't hear him talking any more, and it took all my will power to not look up and return the gaze I could feel was inevitable upon me. It was pathetic. Utterly pathetic. Normally, I was just the small guy who was there, but when Al was around, I couldn't escape the paranoid feeling of being watched.

Turns out, though, you aren't paranoid if someone really is out to get you.

After a minute of forcing myself to keep my head down, I finally chanced a glance at Alfred, only to find his blue eyes, barely hidden behind his glasses, staring straight at me. At first I could have sworn I saw a smile flick across his lips, but then he seemed to stiffen and frown. My face growing beat red, I turned away, pretending to get something out of my back pack before returning to my reclusive position of bending over my drawing. I gulped past the lump in my throat, unable to move as I heard him mutter to Matthew, "Be right back."

Not a moment later, he was hovering by my shoulder. I didn't look up to see him, but I spied him bouncing on the heels of his sneakers through a gap between my arm and the desk.

"What happened to your cheek?" If I'd actually had any, his voice would have shattered any concentration I was actually paying to the sketch before me. I lifted my head slowly; unable to help but notice that Ivan's eyes were on us curiously. Reluctantly, I touched my jaw and turned to look at Alfred, covering up the bruise and scrape that had formed there.

"Nothing," I lied, looking to the left of his glasses' frame rather than in his eyes. This only seemed to make him more determined.

"It doesn't look like nothin'. Come on, what happened?"

"If you don't mind," I murmured in my best attempt to be as polite as possible about the situation, "I think it's not really your business. So..." I looked down, away from his suspicious eyes, and turned back to my drawing. I was positive that he was fishing for some grand, heroic story. It was what he seemed to live for, after all. But it was one I couldn't provide. Instead, I heard him clear his throat behind me, as if to say he wasn't done.

"Why did you pack two lunches?" he asked, pointing to my open back pack. Reflexively, I grabbed it and held it closed, hastily zipping it up.

"Again, not your business. Now if you would kindly leave me be..." I glared up at him, glad I was wearing a jacket and long pants so he couldn't nitpick every scratch and bruise I had. He seemed to stare back at me as if it were his one and only true right and privilege in the world, until I felt like I was going to burn under the scorching scrutiny of his gaze. He didn't seem to keen on letting any of it go, but a moment later he was forced to. The bell signaling lunch finally rang, making my heart skip a beat. Usually, I took my time packing up, less than enthused about what the lunch bell meant, but today it almost seemed better than Alfred's penetrating gaze. I pushed past him and was one of the first out of the room before he had time to ask me anything else.

Once outside the classroom, though, my heart started pounding. I clenched my back pack tightly and made my way through the crowd to an emptier hall, already knowing what lay in store for me. I never went straight to lunch. I couldn't. I knew that if I tried to, it only meant I would regret it after school. My stomach formed its usual knots as I turned a corner into one of the more deserted ends of the school. The lack of people always made it worse. So much worse. I could feel my mouth going dry and couldn't hear my own footfalls over the sound of my heart. After rounding one last corner, there he was. Gilbert. Red eyes shown beneath his dark hair, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He'd been waiting for me. In the same spot he did every day. I tried to gulp, but my throat was too dry. Automatically, I stopped at the end of the hall, my eyes wide as I waited for him to notice my presence. It didn't take him very long. As soon as he saw me, there was a smirk on his face. "Right on time," he sneered, shoving off the wall. "Where is it?" Immediately, I plunged my hand into my back pack and withdrew one of the bag lunches, tossing it to him so I wouldn't have to get any closer. I hoped he couldn't tell that I was barely keeping from shivering, hugging my bag way too tight. Distracted, he opened the bag and inspected. He seemed to frown. "This sandwich looks disgusting." I stiffened, clutching the ends of my shirt and waiting for it to come. He wasn't pleased. Once again, I hadn't been able to pack something that would satisfy him. He dropped the lunch to the floor and stepped ominously toward me. I backed up until I hit a wall, shudders wracking my body as fear gripped me from the navel, as if to pull me inside out. When he was a foot away from me, he slammed his hand into the locker, just behind my ear, making me close my eyes as tightly as I could. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I wanted to be far away.

I felt his free hand roughly grab my jaw, and despite myself, I began mouthing, "This isn't real. Fairies are real. This isn't real. Unicorns are real. This isn't real..." But the more I listed, the more I could feel his hot breath on my face.

"Your fantasy world can't save you this time, you little fuck," he snarled, shoving me sideways so I crashed with the ground. My arm broke my fall, but only barely. I couldn't tell if it was sprained or just bruised, just yet. Gilbert towered over me, pulling back his foot for another blow.

"Hey; Buttwipe!" Both Gilbert and my head wiped around to see Alfred standing at the end of the hall, his hands balled into fists in anger. "Get away from him!"

Gilbert snorted and shot back, "Why, is he your girlfriend?" He shot a glance at me that made me whimper. Alfred seemed unbothered.

"Get away from Arthur. Now."

"Or what?"

It was that statement that seemed to make Alfred snap. Even though Gilbert had to be twice his size, Alfred rushed at him, aiming a punch square in his stomach. I could hear the air rush from the older boy's lungs and a curse slip from his lips. The rest happened so fast that I couldn't entirely make it out from my position on the floor. At some point, I could see Gilbert punch Alfred twice, once in the mouth and once in the nose, both drawing blood. Al had to have gotten a few good hits in, as well, for by the time a teacher finally found us and broke them apart, Gilbert was limping. Alfred refused to leave my side, so we ended up being escorted off together.

We were the only ones in the nurse's office. Alfred's lip had stopped bleeding, but he still had to press a paper towel to his nose to stop the angry flow there. I tried to keep my eyes on the icepack wrapped to my wrist, but they kept being dragged up to find Al staring at me, even though there was a fresh new crack in his glasses.

"You didn't have to do that," I mumbled, averting my eyes.

He snorted in response - which made him wince at his (most likely) broken nose. "Don't be dumb. Of course I did." There was an arrogance about how he said it, as if it were his one and only duty, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "If I hadn't stepped in, he would have beaten you to a pulp. And you would be out of a lunch."

"I packed two," I told him quietly, adjusting the ice on my arm. This seemed to make his focus sharpen on me even more.

"Arthur... How long had he been doing this - before today?"

"I don't know..." I squirmed under his gaze, refusing to meet it. "A... a month... or two."

"Arthur!" He dropped the paper towel, causing a trickle of blood to stream down to his lip. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Setting my jaw, I got up and took the paper towel from him, cleaning the little trail that dripped down his face before pressing it to his nose. I made myself stare at it instead of meeting his eyes, which seemed to be glaring holes in me. "I was handling it.," I said quietly.

"No, you weren't." He poked my previously bruised cheek. "Obviously."

Frowning, I turned my head away so he couldn't see yesterday's reminder of Gilbert and his abuse. Quietly, so quietly I was half sure he wouldn't hear, I whispered, "It's none of your business."

I felt his hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I'm making it my business." I couldn't pull myself away - he was too strong. I tried, though. Desperate to get away, I gripped his wrist with my iced hand, trying to tug him off. Finally, he took pity on me and released my jaw, instead taking the paper towel from my head so I could stumble away and back to my chair, clutching the ice wrapped to my wrist just as the nurse walked back in.

"The principal is dealing with Gilbert," she informed us, moving to inspect Alfred's nose. "Don't worry. Not even a sprain. Your parents have been called. They'll be here to get you soon." At the wide eyed look on my face, she clucked her tongue and chirped, "Oh, now; don't worry. You aren't in trouble. It's just a formality."

"R-right..." I murmured, looking down. Alfred, of course, seemed completely unbothered, as if butting in and getting into these sorts of fights happened to him on a regular basis. Well, if half the stories he jabbered about in class were true, I guess he must have. As soon as the nurse left, I rounded on Alfred again.

"You don't even care that you got hurt, do you?" I demanded.

"'Course I do," he shrugged indifferently. "But I did the right thing. So... It was worth it. Nobody deserves to be bullied like that." He sounded so sure, so secure in this notion. As if it were just so black and white. Good is good. Bad is bad. Albert was good, Gilbert was bad. Defending good, bullying bad. Somewhere in that logic, it seemed as though he'd decided I was good. I wasn't entirely sure I agreed, or how he came to that conclusion, but there was just as much doubt in me that he might listen if I were to ever argue otherwise. Instead, I let the subject drop and we ended up sitting in silence the rest of the time until our mums finally came to pick us up. I should have savored that silence. It was the last bit I would have around him for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Ok, so I must apologize for the first chapter of this story. It was basically unedited and riddled with typos that made me cringe, looking back. I know they are there. My Twin of mind, Lock, pointed each and every painful one out to me over AIM. I typed it on wordpad, which lacks spellcheck, and was too eager to get it posted to actually have anyone proofread it. This will not be an issue in the future, however. Twin is now the official proofreader of this story. So yay. -sends love to twinny-_

_On another note, there are a few people I need to thank. First off, the amazing pretty lady, Anna, for helping me mold and shape this plot, no matter how much we bicker about Canada's outcome. You get mundo credit in the plot department. For helping me with the daunting task of typing/deciphering my handwriting, I'd like to thank my buddies, Purple and Grace. Cause the world knows I hate typing things I've already written._

_Next, the 99 people who have read this so far. God I love you, and I love seeing that number continually rise. I love to see the review number rise even more, though, so if you could, please drop me a note and tell me what you think. I like hearing the good and bad and everything._

_Now, regarding the story... I chose to start at a younger age for these two because I like the thought of seeing them grow into everything, including the realization of not exactly being straight. Yes, that's coming. It's not an easy subject to deal with it, but I can't in good conscience skip that. Therefore, look forward to me totally making their lives hell to discover the truth about themselves. I like putting characters through hell. It's what makes being a writer fun. Also, I think I'mma start putting a snippet of song lyrics that kinda relates to what the chapter's about at the beginning of each one. Just cause... I'm cool like that? Yeah. Let's go with that ._

* * *

><p><strong>Boy, you're an alien<strong>  
><strong>Your touch so foreign<strong>  
><strong>It's supernatural<strong>  
><strong>Extraterrestrial<strong>

_ET - Katy Perry_

* * *

><p>The next day, my hand was in a tight brace to keep it from moving. It still hurt, and looked a nasty puffy red when it wasn't covered, but I refused to complain. I had more dignity than that. I didn't, however, have the courage to answer anyone's questions about the previous day's events. Somehow, by second block, the entire eighth grade knew that Alfred and I had gotten Gilbert suspended for a week. For the most part, I ducked my head low and ignored the obvious stares and whispers I received. The only saving grace was that I'd managed to avoid seeing Alfred for most of the morning.<p>

Until homeroom, that is.

He was already there when I reached the classroom, his focus singularly on jabbering away about baseball to Matthew, who just seemed pleased to be paid a bit of attention. As soon as Alfred saw me, though, he seemed to forget his brother entirely. Silently, I prayed to every mythical creature I'd come to believe in over the years that he wouldn't come to my desk. As it turns out, mythical creatures are about as good at answering prayers as a potato might be. No sooner had I sat down then he was standing in front of me.

"Eat lunch with me, today," was the first thing out of his mouth. I rubbed my forehead wearily, not exactly in the mood for dealing with him.

"No." My reply was instant and firm as I got my notebook out of my bag, as if he weren't really there, and flipped through the pages.

"Yes." He didn't budge. "I'm not letting you eat alone."

"How do you know I-" The sentence fell away from my lips in defeat, my ears going an ungodly shade of red. So he hadn't just been watching me during class.

He seemed to take this as my surrender. "So it's settled, then." He turned away from me and headed back for his seat beside Matthew.

"But I didn't-" It was too late. The bell cut me off. He was already back beside his brother, a story streaming out of his mouth under his breath as the rest of the class quieted down. Frowning, I realized I didn't have much choice but to give in. As if he could sense my defeat, Alfred glanced up at me with a smirk.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was a mess. The entire class period, I had done nothing but stare down at the blank piece of paper before me, my stomach in knots and my hand gripping my hair so tightly that the blonde tufts were surely sticking out at even odder angles than usual. I nearly jumped when the bell rang, hitting my injured wrist painfully against the underside of my desk. Before I could finish repacking my bag, Alfred was already back in front of me, his face just a little to expectant. Sighing, I stuffed the rest of my things away and stood.

Nodding as if pleased with himself, Alfred turned to lead the way. Matthew was right on his heels. I tried following at a distance but, at some point, Alfred looked back at me and slowed down so I had no choice but to catch up.

"Don't look like you're marching to your death," he said suddenly, bumping my shoulder.

"I'm not," I mumbled.

"Could've fooled me," he snorted.

Every day for the next two weeks we went through the same motions. Alfred would demand I sit with him at lunch; I would resist but ultimately cave. The conversations were rarely the same, but Alfred was always the one talking. Matt and I mostly sat there, listening as he went on about this sport or that one, some scary movie he'd watched the night before (that Matt had been too afraid to sit through all the way). I couldn't deny that I was never bored listening to him, though I refused to say so aloud. That would just mean he had another victory over me.

Soon, he didn't have to demand it for me to join him at the lunch table. I stopped refusing and started following out of habit. I wanted to hear today's story. A month after that first lunch, Alfred forced me to realize that I had, in fact, found a friend in him.

We'd walked to lunch as usual, Matt and I on either side of him as we waited for Al to plunge into today's topic of choice. As always, he waited until we were seated.

"We're going alien hunting," he announced as I was pulling out my sandwich. At this, my brows furrowed.

"Aliens? But...there's no such thing." I looked to Matt so he could agree, but he was slipping down in his chair as if to keep himself from being seen.

"Of course they exist!" Alfred responded. "They're watching us right now-and I'm going to catch one."

Now I believed in plenty of things-fairies, ghosts, you name it-but aliens? Never. Some things just went a little too far. I know he could see the doubt on my face; the sight of it made him puff up his chest and give me a look that just DARED me to say he wasn't right.

"Fine," I finally grunted, taking a bite of my sandwich. "Let's just say you're right. How exactly are you going to catch one?"

"Not just me," he grinned, his blue eyes glittering behind his glasses as he glanced between Matt and me. "The three of us. Tomorrow. We're going to camp out and spy on them-once we locate the mother ship, we'll plot our course of action."

I dropped my sandwich. "You want me to do what?"

"Come camping with us." He nodded.

"But...why? I mean, why me?" I couldn't seem to wrap my brain around any part of his plan, especially not the part where I fit in.

"You're our friend, aren't you?" he demanded. I must have looked about as dumbstruck as I felt because he rolled his eyes and pelted me with a crumb from the brownie he'd brought. "You're coming. No excuses. Now eat your sandwich."

I wanted to argue, but I knew a losing battle when I saw one. Obediently, I picked up my dropped sandwich and bit in. Satisfied with my submission, Al launched into a review of some alien movie he'd found particularly convincing. I hardly listened, however. I was too distracted by the prospect of camping the next day. In all honesty, I had never really been good enough friends with anyone to ever be invited anywhere outside of school. Was that really what we had become? Friends? I suppose it wasn't too far-fetched. We'd been eating lunch together every day for the past month. I couldn't exactly say I hated hanging around him and, by extension, Matthew. He wasn't a bad guy if I forced myself to think about it. And it was probably only his presence that had kept Gilbert from seeking revenge on me when he returned from his suspension. That was probably the biggest thing I owed Alfred for. A month ago I had been scared every day when lunch time rolled around. I had never exactly been all that physically fit, and I was even worse at defending myself. There had been a time when I would try fending off Gilbert, but those attempts only made the resulting beating worse. It was shameful. It was embarrassing. I didn't want people to know that I'd been too weak to ever tell anyone. And the longer I let it happen, the more I'd be terrified of anyone finding out. I was convinced that it would only make me a bigger target.

It was only thanks to Alfred that I'd realized that this was wrong. Thanks to him, people only know about the one beating. At first I was convinced that he would only blab about it, furthering my humiliation, make himself out to be the hero while I was the damsel in distress. But he didn't. He didn't spread any rumors, didn't really give out any details. He didn't hesitate to let people know that he'd gotten a few good hits in on Gilbert, but he didn't tell them exactly how my hand had been hurt. Some actually assumed that I'd been just as involved as Al had been. I wasn't entirely convinced that Gilbert wouldn't try to exact his revenge on one of us at some point, but Al was completely unconcerned about the idea. The only idea he suggested for avoiding it was that I stick close to him and let him deal with Gilbert if the need arose. As I wasn't fond of being around him, at first anyway, the thought of following him all the time wasn't exactly a chance I jumped at. After a day or two of Gilbert's return, however, I stopped refusing to let him walk with me between classes. I couldn't really tell when his presence went from being a nuisance to a comfort. Though I wouldn't let him see it, by now I was always noticeably more relaxed when I was beside him than I was roaming the school on my own.

All things considered, it was amazing how much more comfortable I'd become at school because of Alfred. It was probably why, despite the fact that I found the idea of "Alien Hunting" to be quite laughable, I decided that maybe-just maybe-this camping trip wouldn't be so very bad. I just hoped he knew we wouldn't find anything.

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><p>As it turned out, Alfred did not know. The next day rolled around and he was buzzing with excitement the moment I saw him in the hall way between first and second block. He had a look in his bright blue eyes that, for me, seemed to spell trouble. Mostly, he just looked like an over exited puppy. Frowning at this, I hitched up my backpack and only hesitated a moment before walking up to him. His grin only seemed to brighten at the sight of me, though I couldn't exactly figure out why.<p>

"Arthur! Just the man I wanted to see." He clapped a hand on my shoulder, making me lose my balance just the slightest bit.

"Don't do that," I complained, swatting his hand away. "You need to learn your own strength, you git." I glared at him but he seemed completely unphased.

"That your bag for tonight?" He asked, changing the subject and poking the duffle bag I had slung over one of my shoulders. "You're mom said you could come?"

"Well... yeah," I shrugged. "Mum doesn't much mind me staying out with... friends." The word was honestly foreign on my tongue. And it wasn't that my mum didn't mind me staying over - it was that she was thrilled by the prospect. I'd never been exactly social. Making friends, up until I'd met Alfred, had never really been a concept I'd understood. The entire thing still seemed a little laughable. Still, it was nice to know that I wasn't a complete waste of space.

"Awesome," Alfred pumped his fist in the air, as if me spending the night were some great victory. Despite myself, I felt a little smile of my own flit briefly across my lips.

"So," I cleared my throat. "I guess I'll just walk home with you and Matt after school today."

"That's the plan," Al nodded. It was then that the warning bell rang. "Oops. Better get to class." He started to lead the way down the hall. When we reached my class, he paused a moment at the door, grinning at me. "Arthur, I promise. You won't regret this."

I sure as hell hoped not.

* * *

><p>Our town wasn't a big one. Most places were in walking distance, and that went the same for most of the neighborhoods. I lived more on the western side of town, where the houses were more like cottages. My own home wasn't very big. It fit my mum and myself well enough. It worked out well that it was just the two of us there; my dad had run off when I was young.<p>

Alfred and Matthew, however, seemed to live in the eastern part of town. Some of the houses in their neighborhood weren't in the best shape, but they were bigger than in my neighborhood. The space between the houses seemed a touch more limited, as well. Still, I spied some large enough backyards, even though they were all fenced in. I'd been through there a few times over the years, but I'd never really been in any of the houses. When we finally turned up into one of the driveways, Alfred's voice having carried on a constant drabble since we'd left the school, I tightened my grip on the strap of my duffle bag and glanced at Matthew, who merely sent me a little smile back. He and Alfred looked startlingly similar, at first glance, but it was impossible to ever mistake one for the other. Alfred was always more open and expressive than Matthew. He liked being the center of attention and having all eyes on him. Matthew, on the other hand, seemed to feel pleased just to be talked to. He had a much more relaxed air about him. He was a gentle fog where Alfred was a hurricane. I guess growing up with a brother like Alfred, you didn't have much choice but to be quiet and listen.

Inside the house, Al and Matt dropped their things by the door, instructing me to do the same before they lead the way toward the kitchen.

"You boys home?" Came a woman's voice from the kitchen.

"You know it," Alfred called back, leading the way through a living room with a big, fluffy couch and love seat, which faced a giant tv. I paused, gaping at it. I was pretty sure I'd never seen a screen of its size outside a movie theater in my life. Alfred, who seemed to become impatient with my rapture, grabbed my wrist and tugged me back into following him. When we reached the kitchen, Matthew was already sitting at the table beside a woman I could only assume was their mother. She had the same blue eyes as her sons, though hers weren't protected by glasses, and her hair was the same dirty blonde color, just a shade lighter. She had a bright smile, which reminded me of how calm Matthew always was, yet reflected the happiness Alfred seemed to constantly radiate.

"You must be Arthur," she beamed at me. "I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Er, yes ma'am," I replied politely with a nod, glancing at Al. What exactly could he have told her about me? For the past month, most of the time we'd spent together had involved him leading all the conversations, rarely giving me any chance to put in my part on any matter. On the rare occasion that I HAD managed to say anything, it would turn more into a debate than anything - with Alfred always coming out as the victor. That he had enough information on me just from that for which he could talk about was a doubtful notion by any stretch.

"Where's the tent, mom?" Al asked as he stuck his head into the fridge and pulled out two cokes. He handed me one and opened the other for himself, gulping it down as if he'd been a drowning person and the sugary drink was air. I, on the other hand, took my time snapping mine open and taking a tentative sip.

"Your dad set it up before he left for the airport," Al's mom replied.

"The airport?" I asked, curious.

"Dad's on a business trip," Al explained, putting down his half emptied can before chiming a quick, "Be right back." He disappeared from the kitchen; his footsteps echoing as he apparently ran upstairs. A minute later, he returned with a telescope cradled in his arms that looked about as big around as his head. Seeing it, his mother sighed.

"It's not even dark out yet, Alfie."

Al pursed his lips, not happy about having this pointed out to him. "Well then, what are we supposed to do until then?" He demanded.

His mother shook her head. "I'm sure you can figure something out. Why don't you go play in your room?"

Al considered the suggestion, and then finally agreed, setting his telescope down on the table to wait for later. "Come on, guys!" He grabbed my arm again, as if I would lose my way without this particular form of guidance. Upstairs, he passed a few doors before reaching one that was already slightly ajar and pulled me inside it. It certainly wasn't the cleanest room in the world, but at least I could see the floor. The walls were covers in sport and movie posters, the highest shelves all adorned with trophies. Directly across the room from the bed was a tv, a variety of game systems attached to it. After releasing my arm, Al went straight for the tv to turn it on, slipping a disk into his playstation 2. Watching him, I moved a bit farther into the room and sat down on the floor with my back against the bed. Al scooted back to sit beside me and handed me a controller just as Matthew poked his head in through the door. Alfred didn't even look up as Matt slipped in and sat behind us on the bed, so quietly that I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't seen him come in.

* * *

><p>It was a few hours later when we finally emerged from Alfred's room. Darkness was just descending outside. Al's excitement seemed to have returned full force as we helped him carry the sleeping bags out onto his flat, fenced in back yard to the tent. I stopped dead in my tracks when I got out there and scanned the yard, my eyes on the fixture in the center of it.<p>

"You have a _pool_?" I shook my head in disbelief.

"Sure we do," Al shrugged, walking around it to the tent on the other side.

"Ok, are you rich?" I demanded, making myself follow him.

"Not really." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "We used to have more money, but right now..." He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. In my head, I couldn't help comparing his big, stuff-filled house with its pool and everything to the small cottage I shared with my mum. We each had out own rooms, and my mum had never really denied me anything I wanted - I just hadn't really ever wanted much of anything. I was well aware that times were tough, especially with my dad gone. The thought wasn't a pleasant one, but Al didn't seem to notice the slight grimace on my face as he took each sleeping bag in turn from Matt and me and tossed them into the tent. He murmured something about being right back and ran back toward the house, leaving Matt and I to stand there awkwardly in the grass. I turned to look at the shyer brother, but his face was tipped skyward already. I was about to ask him how often they had these campouts, just to break the silence, but he ended up surprising me by speaking first.

"Al's convinced there's something out there." His voice was soft and breathy, lacking much of the power and conviction his brother's always had. "He used to say that we couldn't be alone... That no one should ever be alone. No person... or planet." A little smile quirked on his lips. "I used to think it was silly, but... Everyone has to believe in something, right? For some people it's God. For Al... It's Aliens." He looked down and blushed in the darkness, as if realizing that this was the most he had ever said to me at any point in the month that we'd been friendly. I couldn't tell why he'd told me all this, but I could see that it was important to him that I understand. I guess, in his own way, it was like asking me not to ruin this for Al. Begging me not to let the boy's bubble burst. Unsure how I was supposed to respond, I merely nodded.

Satisfied, he turned back to look at the starry sky. A minute later, Alfred came back out of the house with his telescope in tow as though it were a holy relic that was going to help us unlock the secrets of the universe. Who knew...? Perhaps we would.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**: What's this? Another? So soon? YES! Ok, so, I'd finished writing chapters 2 and 3 sometime last week - handwritten in a notebook during school. I've been desperately typing away to get them posted for you. This chapter is considerably smaller than the last, but that's ok. I think this one's more significant. I was upset while writing it because of the content. -Shouldn't say why- Just read. Go forth and read._

_Once again, thank you to my twin (RipleyRowenBlackheart, if you wanna look her up on here) for editing and for constantly telling me to hurry up so we can get to the boy-love already. It's coming, trust me. Just not yet. I still need to throw a few more obstacles at these guys and have them jump a few more hurtles. Also, thanks to Anna once again for the plot help. Last but not least, THANKS TO YOU READERS! As I type this, I've had 317 hits and 191 readers. This amazes me. Please keep making me feel loved. And once again, please drop me a note on the review page. And questions so far? Maybe you can get them answered! (provided they aren't spoilers). LOVE FROM THE LIVVS_

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><p><strong>When the sun shines, we'll shine together<strong>  
><strong>Told you I'll be here forever<strong>  
><strong>Said I'll always be a friend<strong>  
><strong>Took an oath I'ma stick it out till the end<strong>  
><strong>Now that it's raining more than ever<strong>  
><strong>Know that we'll still have each other<strong>  
><strong>You can stand under my umbrella<strong>  
><strong>You can stand under my umbrella<strong>

_Umbrella - Rihanna_

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><p>We'd set up the telescope and begun our search about an hour before we saw anything in the sky besides stars and the moon. Matt was the first to notice, a quiet "oh no" dropping from his lips. Al and I didn't really notice until Matt came over and tugged Alfred's sleeve.<p>

"Hold on," Al mumbled, pulling up the hood of his hoody to combat the wind that had steadily been growing all evening. He was still bent over the telescope, trying to pick out anything suspicious from Orion.

"But Al," Matt pleaded, now pointing in the opposite direction toward the sky, even though his twin wasn't paying much attention. I, however, followed his hand - and groaned.

"Bloody hell."

My utterance seemed to finally catch Al's attention. "Fine. What's the big deal?" He turned around and froze, finally seeing what we had.

"You've got to be kidding me." He frowned, transfixed by the clouds that were rolling in fast. As if on cue, there was a stringy, rigid flash of light in the clouds. Under his breath, I heard Matthew counting, only stopping when he heard the angry grumble of thunder.

"Three miles away," He whispered, anxious. "But it's coming in fast."

We both turned to look at Al, waiting to see what he wanted to do about it. He wasn't moving. Wasn't saying anything. Didn't seem to be about to do anything.

"Al..." I put a hand on his shoulder. "We're not going to be able to see any-"

"I know." There was a tightness to his voice. A bitterness. Defeat.

"It's... going to rain."

"I know."

We stood in silence for about a full minute before Al began folding up the legs of his telescope. Without a word, he handed it to Matthew, who seemed more than grateful to head inside.

"Do you still want to sleep in the tent?" He asked.

"Er... Sure. I guess."

He nodded, still stone-faced. I'd never seen him look so grave. "Why don't you go get your stuff? I'll set up the inside of the tent."

"Alright." I gave him one last, apprehensive glance before heading back for the house. I expected to see Matthew coming back down the stairs by the time I reached our bags where we'd left them by the front door, but he was nowhere in sight. Frowning, I grabbed my duffle bag and went back outside. When I peeked into the tent, one of the sleeping bags was opened up so it covered the entire floor like a rug, the other two laying on top of it in wait of use. There was an electric lantern in the middle of the tent, causing everything else to cast shadows on the walls.

"What about Matthew?" I crawled in, laying my bag aside.

""He's not coming back out." Al shrugged, straightening up one of the pillows. He must have recognized the confused look I was giving him, for he went on to say, "He's afraid of storms. Always has been. I'm guessing he's curled up under the covers with his stuffed bear, right now."

"Oh." I looked down awkwardly. It wasn't something I was used to, him being so quiet. I'd never had to fill the silence in his presence, which left me wondering how I could. Minutes passed and soon we could hear the rain tapping against the tent. Soon, it was pouring and neither of us had said anything. He didn't even look at me - which he usually seemed to do constantly. I didn't like it. I hated it. I'd become so used to seeing an Alfred who would never shut up, who was always upbeat, that seeing him so quiet and forlorn shook me to the core. Aching with tension, I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them, looking up at the shivering top of the tent.

"It reminds me of London," I murmured, just to have something to say, even if it probably wasn't the best.

"What?" Alfred blinked at me, apparently startled that I'd spoken up at all.

"The rain," I clarified, back in my old habit of avoiding his eyes. "Before I moved here to America, when I was five... I lived in London. The only thing I remember about it is the rain."

"Oh." He seemed to hesitate. "I kind of forgot you weren't from around here." I looked at him just in time to see his guilty smile. "I mean, I guess I should have remembered, with the-"

"Accent. Yeah." I shrugged. "It's ok. Besides, we're better off here. I think... I think my mum's happier here... Not so many reminders of my dad."

Silence fell once again and I closed my eyes. Through the rush of the rain, I heard the rustle of a sleeping bag just before I felt Al's arms wrap around my shoulders from behind. It was only then that I realized I was crying.

"What happened to your dad?" he mumbled into my back.

I swallowed. "He's gone." I didn't elaborate. I didn't need to.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"You didn't ask." My reply held a wry edge to it. "I probably wouldn't have told you if you had, though."

I felt him shift so his chin was resting on my shoulder. "You can trust me, you know." he sounded so matter-of-fact that I couldn't help but let out a little laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I'm serious. I'm not going anywhere."

That simple statement broke my floodgate. This time, I really did sob, turning around to bury my face in his chest. "P-promise you won't t-tell..." I struggled to say, clutching the fabric of his hoody.

"I promise." I could barely hear him over the rain, but still I hung on his every word - just like always. "That's what best friends are for, after all."

I pulled my face away to look at him - really look at him. It was an act that took me a month of practice, and the results left me staring at a face that had a gentle smile and more heart then I'd ever known anyone to have. It was gut-wrenching to be in his presence, almost intimidating if you weren't used to it. But that's just how he was. I couldn't figure out what I'd done to deserve to be in this position - as he'd declared us, "best friends" - but I don't think I'd ever been so pleased to be anywhere in my life.

"Thanks Al." I let my eyes finally drop to the ground and felt him pat my head.

"Anytime, Arthur."

The rain let up soon after, but didn't end. To cheer me up a bit, Al brought out a deck of cards and we started playing war while Al returned to his ways of chattering away about how summer would be here soon and that once it warmed up enough, we would be able to go swimming in the pool whenever we wanted, and went on to tell me, in a quite serious voice, that we would have to have another of these campouts soon. He insisted we keep them up until we find one of his aliens. The way he talked about it, I almost wanted to believe in them, as well.


End file.
